A Ride On the River
by Most Loyal Bellaminion
Summary: Riverx11 smutfic. M for anniversary sex. The two are having a romantic evening in the canals of Venice when the Doctor has an idea, and River tries something new. AN: This started as an inside joke with a friend and turned into a sort of kinda Christmas gift. So yeah, here I present to you my first smutfic.
1. Prologue

The glassy surface of the water rippled gently as the gondola slipped through it, gliding along the canal with ease. A woman sat demurely, shading her head of wild blonde curls with a parasol. Her husband's long arms gripped the equally long paddle, straining a bit against the tension of the water. He wasn't the strongest man, but the woman gazed at him with pure adoration nonetheless. They were enjoying a lovely evening together in Venice, celebrating their anniversary...

The only foreseeable problem was that it was not clear how long the two had been married. That's why there wasn't any party, writing the invitations would have been hell. A calm, relaxed boat ride as the sun was setting. It suited the couple just perfectly.


	2. Carpe Diem

The Doctor was having new feelings for his wife. Well, not entirely new... The first time she met him had probably been the first time. But then technically speaking, that wife who wasn't his wife at the time was different from his current wife, although they were the same person.

When he had first felt it, he was astounded. It had been... Why, it had been hundreds of years since the last time.

He supposed it was normal... But it still seemed awkward.

No.

It was logical, he thought as he reasoned with himself. It was normal and it made perfect sense. He was sexually attracted to his wife and there was nothing wrong with that. She was, after all, a gorgeous blonde with fantastic curves who was prone to red nails and showcasing her ample cleavage. There was many a moment when his pants grew just a bit tighter as she entered a room.

The Doctor had more than kissing on his mind.

But how was he supposed to ask her? They had been together that way plenty of times before, but he could never know where they were in their timelines... The first time asking her had been bad enough, but she had already 'broken in the marriage bed with him' at that point. Each time he gingerly approached her, he had a silent fear of it being the last time. However small it was, it was at the very least a rational fear. Sure, he could act like it wouldn't be such a big deal. But then he was realistic with himself. His first time kissing her, in her cell at Stormcage... It had been wonderful- for him. Yet seeing his wife's face, when she had realized that that had been her last kiss with him... It broke his hearts. Yes, he was able to keep a smiling facade, but deep down he was stricken once more by the fear that his time was running out. Indeed, this was the only change of time that he couldn't run from.

That's why River had always been so flirty around him in his beginning, or towards her end, or whatever you wanted to call it- that time awhile ago that never seemed to end while it was simultaneously slowly coming to a close. Their time in bed together, from her behavior, could be described as... Wild. Passionate. Intense.

And those descriptions were (at least to him) extremely accurate. From his very first time with her, he made sure it was better than the best that either of them had ever had. Being a time traveller did that to you, gave you a better sense of time- the time there was, the time ahead of you... And, most importantly; the amount of time that was already far into the past.

He treated every steamy moment with her as if it was the last, because it could very well be that day sometime soon.

As he feebly steered the gondola through the Venetian canal, he took in every beautiful inch of the woman in the soft orange light of the slowly setting sun. The sky was ablaze over the rooftops of the watery city, it was pleasantly warm and free of sexy fish vampire aliens. He noted that there was still at least one sexy alien, although the one he was currently eyeballing was decidedly more humanoid.

She caught him looking at her and matched his gaze. She smiled.

He just could never get over how breathtakingly divine she always looked. Even when she had died.

Oh.

He remembered once more, and thought he felt one of his hearts shudder. The thought jolted the timelord, shook him straight to the core. Not many things could do that.

Time to seize the day.


	3. Facade

He was looking at her again. But it was a different type of look. It was somehow slightly more awkward than her husband normally was. It was a look of love, but as if he was considering something. She decided smiling back at him would be a good response, he always seemed to like that.

Then she noticed the uncomfortable way she was sitting. She recognized it from the first time she had met him. River instinctively brought her gaze downward, and onto the bulge in her husband trousers. Oh dear. She had a feeling she knew what he was thinking about, what he was contemplating. It made her sad, knowing what would happen. It would surprise him too; her... circumstances. But then, when wasn't she a surprise?

All River could say was that assumption is the mother of all confusion.

Through her teen years, the ones with Amy and Rory, she had been called plenty of names. Slut. Whore. Skank. There were even some really, really inventive ones that she would rather not think about.

She supposed she brought it on herself, constantly making dirty jokes. She had always been a flirt. Because of that, everyone had thought her easy. That she had slept around.

Of course, she still did it all on purpose. She wanted to make people uncomfortable, because when it came to sex people always blushed. It was fun seeing them squirm, she got the same thrill out of that as, say, burning ants with a magnifying glass.

She liked to dress to show off her assets, was that a crime? No, but apparently just looking like a prostitute was enough to get you thrown in jail for the night. Imagine that, a woman waiting alone in the dark outside of a bar on Calisto B. There was a plethora of reasons she could be standing there all dressed up. River had been waiting for a business partner, but she didn't intend for any money to change hands. She would seduce him, freshen up her lipstick, and then he wouldn't know what hit him. She would be off with the goods, and he would be left reeling on a barstool; with lipstick smeared all over his face and no recollection of the past few hours. But obviously any woman with a large bosom alone outside a bar fixing her makeup could be assumed to be a prostitute. A sleazy drunk had even approached her, wad of bills in hand. As she was about to give him an earful and a kick to the nether regions, a street patrol officer wandered by. Into handcuffs River went, but there was no joking with the Doctor. She wanted to cry, but the answer to why she was being arrested was within the question. She acted like a whore. She truly did. She kissed and teased and winked and exposed a lot; she was very manipulative that way. She knew that it really was her fault, she was doing it to herself. But it hurt, nonetheless. Of course, she never let it show. That was just another part of her facade, building up the wall to hide her many secrets.

Assumption was a terrible thing. A God awful, truly horrible thing. People made up their minds on something that they only had a bit of information on, then they treat people accordingly and rarely give it a second thought. It was first impressions gone wrong and never revisited.

River was no prostitute, no slut, no whore.

She was a virgin. She had been running for her life practically since she had been born, and that had matured her. She had a strong sense of dignity, and this was something special. She was saving herself for her husband, and that had been decided from a very early age.

River was actually panicking a bit now. It was her first time, and that meant the Doctor's last with her. He would be quite experienced by now. She was all talk and no experience, how do you even...? She had no clue what to do. She didn't want her husband's last time making love to her to be awkward, but for her it was starting to seem scary.

Of course she knew what was supposed to happen, but it just... Suffice it to say she was nervous. She had no doubt that he was the right man, and the evening had been romantic enough- it seemed like one of the best times.

Her heart was fluttering, she could feel herself blushing. Hopefully the pink sunset would mask that... But her cheeks were definitely flushed. Could he tell? God, she hoped not.

Funny, she never thought that this would be so difficult. But then, you never thought that a sprained ankled was so terrible until you were literally running for your life.

He drew in a decisive breath and looked directly at her, making full eye contact.

He opened his mouth. Her eyes widened, and River could swear he could hear her heart pounding. It was time to face her Waterloo.

"You know..." He began seductively. "I could be in two Rivers in one go."

She fought back a gasp, and then a small laugh. Not the most clever euphemism, granted, but still. He got the meaning across, and it honestly turned her on. She smirked. "I'm all yours, Sweetie."


	4. Kiss Kiss

The Doctor smiled, celebrating a silent success. It seemed that this wasn't the end of the line. Well, he knew that appearances could be deceiving, but he was really, really hoping.

"Well then. I'd say it's time we dock this boat." He announced as he steered them into the shadows of a hulking stone bridge. He tied the gondola off, wrapping the rope several times around a stone pillar. The small boat rocked gently as he moved into the velvet lined seating area. His wife was putting away her parasol, rearranging her large Victorian bustle to accommodate him as he launched into a kiss. Their mouths met and their chests collided; River leaned into it even more when she felt his large hands on her hips. This was one thing she had actually done before, many times. But it had been a while, she'd almost forgotten how well his lips fit with hers. She moaned as their tongues danced, the need for words or thoughts gone. His hand tenderly found its way through the mess of curls cascading over her shoulders to her neck, as if he was bracing them both. He couldn't get a good grip; her high necked dress was made of a slippery sateen fabric. Her fingers were tangled in the brown locks at the back of his own neck.

The first kiss was long and hard, and River began to grow lightheaded. They broke for air, just for a second, but it was too long. She didn't want it to end. In the quickly fading light, the Doctor's eyes seemed a brighter green than she had ever seen. River pushed her husband away zealously, momentarily confusing him. Any doubts he had were immediately silenced; she took off her bolero jacket, and set upon undoing the column of miniscule buttons lining her throat.

With the top half of her ensemble laying in a crumpled heap, River was left in her corset and skirts. The Doctor was in the process of unbuttoning his own jacket when he stopped. He could do nothing but just stare at her, in awe of her body. Her curves were accentuated perfectly by steel boning of the corset. Her waist was cinched in, making her appear even bustier. He couldn't stand it; he lunged at her. He needed her lips in his. It was a primal urge, this powerful lust. He hadn't seen her, hadn't had sex in almost a hundred years. Seeing her tonight had awakened something. He practically inhaled her this time, they were breathing together. His teeth toyed with her bottom lip. He could smell sweetness of River's perfume as their bodies pressed together, the only thing separating their skin being the thin fabric of their remaining clothes.


End file.
